Command

Wu Changkong felt that life lately had been a little unreal.

First, Lu Menge had scared the psychiatrist into breaking out in a cold sweat in the consultation room. Then she had returned her payroll card to him, but he had not taken it. She had not insisted either. The card still lay on her windowsill beside the thermos, where he could see it every morning when he picked her up for breakfast at the cafeteria.

Breakfast had been his requirement. Dr. Zhang's prescription was to be taken twice a day, one pill in the morning and one at night. Lu Menge thought they were bitter. Every time, she would hide the pill beneath her tongue while he was not looking, then secretly spit it out when he turned around to get the milk. He had caught her twice and said nothing. Starting from the third time, he had stood beside her and watched her swallow it before handing her the milk.

"You're more like my mom than Director Long," Lu Menge had said once.

Wu Changkong looked at her without smiling, but the frost between his brows softened slightly.

There were no classes that afternoon. Wu Changkong was reviewing training logs in his office when the door was knocked twice. It was not Lu Menge's style of knocking twice and pushing straight in. This was three proper knocks, even in force and perfectly measured in rhythm.

"Come in."

Gu Yue pushed open the door. She was wearing her school uniform today, silver hair spilling over her shoulders, a cup of soy milk in her hand, her expression as cool as ever. She set the soy milk on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, her back perfectly straight. Wu Changkong put down his pen. Gu Yue rarely came looking for him on her own—last time, she had cried beneath the ginkgo tree for nearly fifteen minutes. Thinking back, every accusation from that breakdown still sounded as fresh as yesterday. He could still hear the lingering echoes whenever he flipped through the diagnosis report.

"Teacher Wu," Gu Yue said bluntly, "has my sister been doing a little better lately?"

"She has been taking her medicine on time, and sleeping better than before. But she still isn't very willing to talk about herself," Wu Changkong answered honestly.

Gu Yue nodded, fell silent for two seconds, then raised her eyes. The emotions in those violet eyes were controlled just right—some hesitation, some concern, and above all, a younger sister's care for her elder sister.

"She's improving because you've been keeping an eye on her. You took her to the doctor, watched her take her medicine, brought her to meals on time—she's taken all of that in." She paused and set down her cup of soy milk. "But that alone isn't enough. My sister's problem isn't just physical."

Wu Changkong waited for her to continue.

"Let me put it this way—why does she treat every bit of kindness you show her as though the sky is falling? It isn't because she doesn't need care. It's because she needs it too much." Gu Yue lowered her voice, steady and soft, every word like a neatly cut pill. "How much? If someone gives her the slightest bit of kindness, she thinks she owes them for the rest of her life. If someone speaks to her gently, she panics and doesn't know how to respond. She stayed in that kind of environment for too long, constantly being kept down—what she got used to wasn't gentleness, but commands. Gentleness is soft. She doesn't think she deserves it. But commands are different—commands are a language she understands. If you say, 'You must finish eating,' she eats. If you say, 'Go to sleep on time,' she sleeps. Because commands come with no conditions. She doesn't have to weigh whether she deserves them. The better you treat her, the more she thinks you might take it back at any time. But commands won't be taken back. Commands only go one way. She doesn't have to repay anything, just obey. The more forceful you are, the safer she feels. She knows where the boundaries are, knows what will happen next, knows you won't negotiate with her about treating her well—you simply treat her well."

After saying that, Gu Yue lifted her soy milk and took a sip, calm and composed as if she had merely stated an ordinary treatment plan.

Wu Changkong was silent for a long time.

He remembered the first time he had taken Lu Menge to the cafeteria for breakfast. He had placed the milk before her and said, "Remember to drink it." She had held the cup in a daze for several seconds before slowly taking a sip. He remembered the first time he had forced her to take medicine. She had bargained, asking, "Can I not take it?" He had said, "No." She had muttered, "Why are you being so mean?" but still swallowed the pill. At the time, he had thought she was merely acting cute. Only after Gu Yue explained it in terms of commands did he realize that every time she reacted like that, it had been after he spoke to her in a tone that did not leave room for discussion.

"What exactly should I do?" he asked.

"Don't force it. Just don't ask her things like 'Do you want to?' 'Would you like to?' or 'Is that okay?' when you speak to her normally. Tell her directly what she needs to do. Use statements for eating, sleeping, and taking medicine. Don't make them questions. If you think she needs it, she'll do it."

Wu Changkong committed those words to memory. Then he frowned slightly and looked at Gu Yue. "Why do you understand this?"

Gu Yue's eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly. Her finger traced an invisible circle along the rim of the soy milk cup. Then she set the cup on the coffee table, rose, and walked toward the door. At the doorway, she paused without turning back.

"Because I slept in the same room as her for many years. Whenever those people came, she pushed me into the wardrobe. I heard every command they gave her—it was much like this now. Only back then, she was lying on the floor, while now she was sitting across from a dining table. Back then, she couldn't refuse those people. Now, she can't adjust to you. But she can adjust to commands. If you don't give her commands, she'll never know whether she can refuse. Give her commands first—once she stops trembling, then ask her what she wants to eat today."

She pushed open the door and left.

Wu Changkong sat behind his desk, staring at the door after it had shut again. He pushed the Heavenfrost Sword half an inch deeper into its sheath, then closed it. His fingertips tapped softly against the desk. At last, he made up his mind.

In the hallway, Gu Yue walked steadily around behind a flowerbed. Tang Wulin was crouched by its edge, gnawing on a bun. When he saw her coming, he hurriedly stood up, his cheeks still puffed out.

"So—how did it go?" he asked indistinctly.

Gu Yue stopped beside him without answering and held out her hand first. Tang Wulin skillfully pulled out a tissue from his pocket and handed it over. Gu Yue took it, lowered her head, and buried her face in it. Her shoulders began to shake violently.

"You're crying again?!" Tang Wulin jumped in fright.

What came from beneath the tissue was not crying, but a laugh forced flat and squeezed through clenched teeth. Gu Yue laughed for quite a while before raising her face. There was not a trace of tears at the corners of her eyes. Her lips curled like a fox that had stolen an entire basket of chickens. Lowering her voice, she said to Tang Wulin, "Done. He'll be giving her orders soon. Come on—let's crouch by the sports field. We can watch the whole thing."

Tang Wulin swallowed the last bite of his bun hard, his eyes shining as he followed her toward the sports field.

Teacher's dormitory area. Lu Menge was hanging laundry on the balcony. The sun was bright today. She had changed into a light gray house dress, wore slippers, and had casually clipped her hair behind her head. She shook out a white T-shirt and hung it on a hanger. Little White Tiger lay sprawled atop the balcony railing in the sunlight, its tail dangling and swaying lazily.

The door opened. Without turning around, she knew it was Wu Changkong—the entire teachers' apartment building had only one person who would wait for her to say "Come in" after knocking.

"It's dinner time. Go to the cafeteria." Wu Changkong stood at the balcony door, his voice even.

Without looking back, Lu Menge continued shaking out another piece of clothing. "Let me finish hanging these two—just a minute."

"Put them down. Eat first."

The hanger in Lu Menge's hand stopped in midair. She turned and glanced at Wu Changkong. He stood in the balcony doorway, dressed in white, posture as straight as ever, expression as cold as ever. But his words were different from usual—normally, he would only say, "Remember to eat," or "Eat early," in a lighter, more relaxed tone. Today, neither sentence was a question. There was no room to negotiate. It was as if he were directly announcing an arrangement that he alone had decided. She hesitated, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the hanger, then really did put it back in the basin.

"Fine, fine. What are we eating?"

"The cafeteria has braised pork ribs today. You said you wanted them last time. There's soup too."

Lu Menge dried the water from her hands and went inside. She grabbed the gray suit jacket draped over the back of a chair, slipped it on, and followed him downstairs in her slippers. She glanced back at Little White Tiger on the railing. Little White Tiger buried its head in its paws and pretended to sleep.

There were not many people in the cafeteria yet. Wu Changkong had her sit in their usual spot by the window, then went to the serving counter for food. Lu Menge rested her chin on her hand as she waited, her fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop—one, two, pause, then one, two, pause. Pork ribs, vegetables, and a bowl of egg soup were arranged neatly before her, along with chopsticks and a spoon. Wu Changkong set down the tray and sat opposite her.

"Finish all of it."

Lu Menge froze for a moment, then picked up her chopsticks. She first placed a piece of pork rib into her mouth—it was braised with sugar, and really did taste good. Then she picked up some vegetables, ate several bites of rice, and lifted the egg soup for a spoonful. Wu Changkong noticed that she did not bargain. She did not say, "It's too much," or "I can't finish it," nor did she sneak food aside while he was not looking. She simply ate quietly, bite by bite, occasionally looking up at him as if making sure he was still sitting across from her. He watched the entire dinner and remembered what Gu Yue had said. Somewhere in his heart, something swelled with aching sourness. It was not that she did not want to eat until she was full. She had merely been waiting for someone to decide for her: You're allowed to eat.

Lu Menge cleaned the last rib to the bone, set it down, licked the sauce from the corner of her lips, and looked up just as she was about to speak. A squarely folded napkin was held out before her. She took it and wiped her mouth. Wu Changkong rose to clear the tray, then turned back after taking two steps.

"Take your medicine at eight tonight. I'll come supervise."

"...Eight is too early, isn't it? I usually take it at ten—"

"Eight."

"Okay, okay, eight." Lu Menge hurriedly raised a hand in surrender.

About fifty meters outside the cafeteria window, behind the shrubs beside the flowerbed, two people were crouching. Tang Wulin knelt on the grass with a branch raised in front of his face, staring through the leaves toward the cafeteria window. Gu Yue crouched beside him, far more composed, holding a small mirror she had apparently borrowed from some office and using its reflection to observe Wu Changkong and Lu Menge's table.

"She didn't resist." Tang Wulin lowered his voice, disbelief filling his tone. "Teacher Wu told her to finish everything, and she actually finished everything—even the vegetables!" Normally, Lu Menge would secretly shove her vegetables onto his plate whenever Wu Changkong turned to write on the board. Yet now, under Wu Changkong's gaze, she had eaten them herself. Gu Yue said nothing, but the curve of her lips rose another five degrees.

More than half an hour later, Wu Changkong left the teachers' apartment building and headed toward his office. Tang Wulin poked his head out from behind the shrubs to make sure it was safe, then crouched back beside Gu Yue and lowered his voice. "If Teacher Lu finds out we've been spying on her, will she freeze us into ice statues?"

Gu Yue flicked away a ginkgo leaf that had landed on her shoulder. She admired the distant figure of the oblivious senior Sacred Beast drawing open her curtains and pacing back and forth through the room. "She will. But if you don't say anything and I don't say anything, she'll only think Wu Changkong is in a bad mood today."

She picked up the small mirror and saved a screenshot of the final segment. She had already thought of the title for tonight's secret message to Di Tian—Teacher Wu's orders: Part Two at Eight Tonight.